Be Brave
by ms.worldwide
Summary: "Be brave," That's all Lynn's heard since she was a kid, and that was her number one rule. Coincidentally, those are the words she hears when Eric's about to be killed; maybe that's why she saved him. Maybe it's because she knew he was right. She isn't sure, but she knows she's falling. Falling in love, that is; but why oh why did it have to be with him of all people? Eric/Lynn
1. Chapter 1

Yes, this is a Divergent Trilogy FanFiction, and yes it is an Eric/Lynn story. Frankly, there aren't many pairings that involve Lynn and Eric, and they are awesome together because they're so much alike. This story kind of follows the plot line save for everyone's still alive. Well, everyone but Will and Al, only because I thought their deaths were logical and made sense, the people who I kept alive, I do not find their deaths logical. So, Marlene, Lynn, (and yes even) Jeanine, and Eric are still alive (Uriah and Tori and the people who die around that time haven't even died.) Oh yeah, and Shauna isn't paralyzed. Because once again, I did not find it logical to do it right then.

Oh, and I seriously don't like who they picked to play Eric, Tobias/Four, or Tris so they won't exactly be described like that. You can picture them anyway you wish. Personally, it think Colton Haynes or Dave Franco should play Eric, and Phoebe Tonkin should play Lynn.

Yeah, well time to start the story.

* * *

Four picked up the gun and loaded it. Eric was still blabbering about how we were all the same. How we were all murderers, killers, monsters.

As much as I wanted to tune him out, I couldn't. A part of me knew, just _knew_, that he was right. We _were_ killers, murderers. Whether the attack he - well, more of Jeanine Matthews - had launched had started this whole thing or not, we were still murderers. We fought for our lives and the people we loved, and killed others in the process, and just because they were on the other side we automatically classified them as "bad." What was bad? Because if Eric was bad as we thought he was, then we were worse. If we killed him then there'd be no words to describe how much worse we were.

I'd rather die in this battle than take the easy way out and be branded as a coward. There was nothing that I feared more - besides the loss of those I love - than being a coward.

I was Dauntless. So, why didn't I feel so brave?

"Be brave, Eric." Four said, raising the gun to fire. Before he could, my voice echoed across the room:

"Stop!"

Four paused and glanced at me as did every other person in the room.

"What?" Tori asked, her eyes shining with a malicious glint. I almost flinched at that look. That was the look of a killer. As I glanced around the room, I noticed everyone had that same look. We were killers. "Why'd you stop? We should be killing this bastard,"

"No we shouldn't." Her voice came out clear and sure, but mine came out firm and resolute. "I want to filet the traitor as much as any of you, but it's not right. He's right. We're just as much a killer as he is, and by killing him we're making ourselves worse. This isn't what dauntless is about. We're supposed to be brave, killing this guy makes us all cowards."

"Yeah," Eric grins slyly. "Listen to the girl. You're all killers _and_ cowards. Just imagine if they started with the same letter, then you'd all have a stage name."

I glared at him. "You shut up before I grab the gun from four and kill you myself."

Eric shrugged, still wearing a smirk.

"But he killed—," Tori tried to protest, but I cut her off. I liked Tori, I really did, but right now she was the side of her that the normal her would feel guilty for showing.

"No, I'm sorry that none of you can get it through your heads that this is wrong."

"But as Dauntless, we're supposed to protect those around us. As long as _he_ lives we're endangering our community." Four spoke.

"Mmmhmm, but our first rule is to be brave, never back down. And since we're mentioning the 'protect those around us' rule, then I guess it's safe to say that we all might as well just kill ourselves. Because by training we're strengthening ourselves and there's no telling what we could do."

"She's right," someone spoke to the right of me. I turned slightly to see Shauna standing there. "We've already stooped to his level, we shouldn't lower ourselves further."

"Then what do you suppose we do? Let him go?" Four asked exasperated.

"Of course not, I'm not stupid."

"Then what?"

This time Marlene spoke up, "We lock him up, and keep him under surveillance." I nodded in agreement, it sounded like a logical plan.

Tori sighed, and clenched her jaw indignantly.

"Fine," Four nodded and signaled for Tris to follow him.

"Since it was your idea, you and Marlene escort him, Uriah, Zeke, Shauna you guys accompany them just in case."

Without as so much as another word, he walked off Tris in tow.

I was about to walk forward to help the others with grabbing him, but someone's hands grabbed my arm. I turned and stared at the person.

_Tori_.

"Yes?"

"You're making a mistake, he's killed hundreds, probably thousands."

"Yes, but you're just angry about your brother. He didn't cause your brother's death, _she_ did. We shouldn't hold others accountable for someone else's mistakes." I wasn't pissed at her, I just didn't want to see us all be monsters.

"When'd you become a saint?"

"I haven't. If our purpose here is to prove we're all Dauntless and to bring back the old ways, then I'm going to help bring back _all_ the old ways." I jerked my arm back, and continued walking. I wasn't really sure when this all came up, it just did and that angered me. I wanted to kill him, but something was stopping me. And I knew it was definitely not my heart.

I reached them and they nodded in acknowledgement and we continued to escort him with a gun pressed at his back and another at his temple.

"Aw, didn't know you Dauntless brats had gone so soft." Eric cooed tauntingly.

"Make one move and I put a bullet through your head," Zeke warned.

"Ooh, so scared." He grinned. "Last time you tried to do that you were the only one who ended up hurt. Remember?"

He was trying to manipulate him. And so far, it was working. It was no wonder he originated from Erudite. He was smart enough to know just what points to hit to get to him.

Zeke clenched his fist, and pressed the gun tighter to his temple. "Zeke," I warned, "don't do it. That's what he wants."

"Then who am I to deny it? I mean it is his last, _dying_ wish."

"Death is too easy for him. Let him rot for the rest of his life," That seemed to interest him. He pushed Eric forward with a prod of his gun.

We led him down the long passageways until we reached the prison cells.

We pushed him into one of the larger cells. Most people would hate to be put in small cells but after a while even large cells seemed to close in.

"Have fun in hell, Eric." Zeke sneered.

Eric quirked an eyebrow amused. "I'll be sure to, Ezekiel."

Zeke lunged at the bars of the cell. He hated being called by his full name.

Uriah grabbed him and hauled him back. "I should just do you a favor and end your worthless life now." Zeke snarled.

"But you won't, you never had the balls to do it. Not even when we were initiates."

Uriah pulled him out of the room, before he could do anything.

Marlene and Shauna followed but I stayed behind. He looked at me with a questioning glance. "Why are you still here?"

"To warn you. Make one wrong move and I will personally kill you."

"What will I be doing? I'm locked up,"

"It doesn't matter what you do. I'll kill you myself."

"Yeah, you kind of made that part clear, sweetheart." He said.

I scowl at him before turning and taking my leave.

* * *

We sat at our table in silence. I knew they must've been unnerved by the fact he was still alive. It was the right thing to do. And that should've meant a lot coming from me, I was merciless in battle. But that's what stopped me from letting them kill him.

"So. . ." Uriah started, grinning awkwardly. "How's the weather?"

Zeke cracked first, and was followed by a giggling Marlene. The table erupted in small laughs, and I smiled while I suppressed an eye roll at my friend's childishness.

"Seriously?" Tris questioned, a small smile playing at her lips.

"It was meant to break the tension and awkwardness!" He defended. "I don't see you doing any better."

Tris just shook her head. "Whatever,"

"So, what are we going to do now?" Zeke asked. "We've got one of our main enemies locked up, now what?"

"We interrogate him, obviously." Was the only response he received.

Zeke nodded, only partially satisfied. I knew he wouldn't be satisfied until Eric was dead, and a part of me agreed with him, but I couldn't let that happen. Not this way, at least.

"Someone should bring him food." Shauna said.

All eyes turned to me, and it was decided, without the use of words, that I would be bringing him his food. I sighed and nodded.

"What should I bring him?" I grumbled.

"The usual Dauntless lunch," Marlene said, sending a smile my way. I nodded, grabbing a plate and piling it with food.

I set out on my journey to feed the prisoner, silently cursing myself for not letting them kill him. He was taking away my time, by the time I got back there probably wouldn't be any cake left. I groaned at the mere thought of not getting any cake, and picked up my pace to just above a run.

I reached the cell in no time, and spotted Eric. He was laying on the bed he was provided with, with his eyes closed and his arms behind his back, as if he was actually enjoying his punishment. I don't see why anyone would, but then again, no one ever said that Eric was sane. I don't think anyone's even thought of it, I sure as hell wouldn't.

I cleared my throat and he cracked open one eye. When he saw me, he closed it again, and sighed. He took a moment before sitting up and making a show of stretching. He finally turned to look at me.

His eyes scanned me, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable. His gaze was like a lion stalking its prey, and I didn't like it at all. Finally, his eyes snapped back up to meet mine, and he grinned wickedly. I shivered in the slightest. I hated it when he did that. Every time he had that wicked grin, it was like he had taken a look into your mind and saw all of your greatest fears. Coincidentally, he and a few other Dauntless leaders did, and that's what scared me. He knew my fears, he knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted. He simply had to manipulate me and he would get it.

I was determined to make sure he didn't manipulate me.

"Oh, your hair's growing back." He commented. I stared at him. I hadn't expected that. What a great conversation starter.

"Um, okay." I splutter. I silently curse myself when his grin widens. I clear my throat one more time, and speak again, this time I made sure my voice didn't waver. "Here's your food."

I extended my hand, and slid the plate through the small gap in between the bars. He grabbed it, quirking his eyebrows ever so slightly. "What, no cake?"

I scowl at him. When I thought of him manipulating me—or trying to—I expected him to use the same tone of voice that he usually did. Cold, merciless, but I wasn't expecting a light, almost flirty tone.

In attempt to clear my head, I shook it. It was probably just another attempt to throw me off guard and so far, as much as I hated to admit it, it was working exponentially well.

"It's called Dauntless cake for a reason." I say after a small period of silence. "It's meant for Dauntless members, _you_ are _not_ Dauntless."

"Ouch," he half-smiles, "you wound me, Lynn."

I roll my eyes, but he continues. "But seriously, your hair, it is growing."

"Yeah, that's what people—including their hair—do; grow!" My voice came out indignant. He was seriously starting to annoy me.

His smile didn't waver. "You seem pissed."

"Of course I do. I just saved a worthless bastard from the fate he so clearly deserved and now I'm having to deal with him and his fucking attitude!"

He faked a thinking look. "Hmm, I'm not sure, but I think you might be talking about me." He mused.

I gripped the bars and glared at him, he in return smirked. "Listen here, and listen well. I will kill you, I'm not afraid of you like everyone else here is. I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your head, if you as so much as walk wrong."

"You won't, though," he said.

"And why is that?"

"Because you and I are a lot alike. Whether you choose to admit it or not, you are. You know it, too. That's why you stopped them from shooting me. It doesn't matter whether or not you're scared of me, because you don't need to be, I'm already inside of your head and there's nothing you can do about it."

I backed away from the bars, and so did he. He took a bite of the food I brought him, still wearing that annoying, triumphant smile. I began to walk away, but not before calling over my shoulder, "We'll see about that, Eric."

"I guess we will, Lynn. I guess we will."

* * *

No, they won't automatically start liking each other. That'll take time. Eric wasn't flirting with her in that kind of way, he was just doing it to confuse her so he would be in her head. He doesn't like her, yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent Trilogy, they belong to Veronica Roth.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own the Divergent Trilogy, it belongs to Veronica Roth

Once again, my description of the characters will be different. Eric doesn't have "so many piercings that Tris loses count", in this story he's only got like two. Eric, in my perspective, is played by either Colton Haynes or Dave Franco, he'll have features from both. Lynn is played by Phoebe Tonkin. Some people are still alive save for Al and Will, and Shauna is not paralyzed because she's too awesome to be paralyzed.

**_Lynn's POV_**

I walked back up to the cafeteria and sit down at the table, still slightly unnerved by what Eric had said. There was no way we were alike. We may have been killers, but we did it because we were either forced to or had no choice but to. We felt remorse and pain for the loss, people like him didn't. If they ever did then none of whatever this was would have happened, and he'd still be a Dauntless leader—the Dauntless leader that everyone feared. I shook my head, and stared down at the table. Surprisingly, there was still some cake left. I grabbed some of it and put it on my plate before piercing the delicious-looking side of the chocolate cake with my fork. I placed it in my mouth, and relished in its taste. It truly felt like home—like nothing had changed at all. Like we weren't in the middle of a battle, fighting not only for our lives, but for the lives and freedom of the people we swore to protect.

"So. . ." Uriah began, looking at me. I rose an eyebrow.

"Yes?" I asked, taking another bite of the cake. "What do you want now? Follow up question: what did you do now?" He scowled at me as the table erupted in snickers.

"Well, I was just going to ask if you were okay and what had happened down there. You look pretty shaken up." He says, his eyes were filled with sincere concern. "What did he say to you?" There was no need to name him, it was already obvious that 'he' meant Eric; and not in a good way either.

I debated telling them or not. It wouldn't really help anything nor would they care. If it had nothing to do with endangering or protecting somebody, it wasn't exactly important right now. I definitely knew that I wasn't important.

I shook my head, more to convince myself than him. "Nothing. Just a little tired, that's all."

They all nodded convinced. Well all of them except Shauna. She gave me a questioning glance and I shrugged it off. Her eyes bore into mine. She knew I wasn't telling her something, and now her eyes were pleading with me to tell her, to confide in her. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't. I refused to worry her with all my problems. Whether she was my older sister or not, I wasn't going to go running to her every time I needed someone to comfort me. I was a big girl; besides, we were Dauntless.

She eventually gave up on trying to pry it out of me, realizing I wasn't going to tell her and went back to eating her food. I looked down at my cake that no longer looked so appetizing. Right now, it just looked like a pile of mud on yellow cement. I dropped my fork on my plate and pushed the cake away from myself.

I tried to at least listen in on the conversation, but I found it extremely difficult. I couldn't yet wrap my head around what he had said. For some reason, it sparked something inside of me. Self-loathing, maybe. It would make sense. I mean, I did just label myself and those around me, killers. We, as a group, hated those kind of people—and I mean, absolutely despised them. We always felt like they were conceited and cared for no one, and that they were automatically evil and that we were the good guys.

Well, what if we were wrong? What if they weren't the bad guys and we were never really the good guys?

We're always more than willing to kill anyone on their side because of the chance that they could kill our loved ones and were disgusted when they were also more than willing to kill us—as if we deserved to live more than anything. As if we were perfect. I'll never truly understand that. Both sides think that what they're doing is obviously for the better, but neither know which one truly is for the better.

What is for the better?

I shook my head again. Right now, we didn't know what was for the better we just assumed, regardless of the fact that lives are still being lost. Something neither side probably wanted but had expected.

I let out and inaudible sigh, this shit was just too confusing and too depressing. Why the hell was I thinking of it anyway? I'm Dauntless for the chasm's sake! I wasn't Erudite for a reason. I don't think like this.

"Lynn! Lynn," Marlene nearly shouted. My head snapped up and I stared at her in slight annoyance.

"What?" I asked.

"I've been trying to get your attention for like three minutes now," she replied with a suspicious tone. I looked around the table to see that everyone was staring at me in confusion. Guess I completely zoned them out.

I huffed and looked at Marlene apologetically. "I'm sorry," My voice came out breathy. "What were you trying to tell me?"

"I was trying to ask if you were going to be there." I look at her confused and she elaborates. "Zeke's invited us all over to his apartment to celebrate, are you going to come?"

I furrowed my brow. We had literally just gotten back and they were already celebrating. Celebrating what, exactly?

I just shrugged and nodded, and she beamed at me. Shauna, on the other hand, didn't let this little scene go. We didn't need to use words to understand each other. She was still worried about me. I motioned saying that I was really tired and confused about this whole situation and she nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer.

They started talking about going zip lining, and a small grin spread across my face. I loved doing these things, they were so . . . . so Dauntless. That was the best and probably the only way to describe it. They just felt so free, so right. Like it was a part of—if not all of—my existence. The thing I thrived for. It was free, something everyone in Dauntless wanted, no needed, to be. If you took away our freedom, then you basically just took away our right to life and our will to live.

I felt a weird tingling feeling in my gut that really hit home. I don't really know what I'd do if someone took my freedom away. I'd hate every second of my existence during that time.

And that's how I ended up in the tattoo parlor. I decided that I would get a tattoo to symbolize my freedom and how much I would cherish it.

I wasn't exactly sure how I would symbolize it, but I did know that I was going to get the words "Be Brave," tattooed on my right arm. So far the only things that symbolizes freedom and sparks my interest is the feather that has some of the little tickly parts broken and shaped like fluttering birds, and a snake. I wanted my tattoo to be unique, not like anything my friends or sister had. The snake was something that Uriah already had on his ear, so that ruled that out. Looks like I was going with the feather; I just needed to decide where I was going to put it. I wanted it medium size, so I'd need it in a fairly reasonable place. Too bad I didn't know what 'fairly reasonable' was. I couldn't put it on my arm like I was going to do with the words, and I most certainly was not going to put it on my legs. The best place would be my back or my side.

I didn't want it to be too noticeable, either, which meant I'd have to put it in the less stand-out place. My side it is.

I walked into the tattoo parlor and was greeted by none other than Tori. I was surprised to find out that the tattoo parlor was even open, saying that we just got back, but to find out that Tori was here was even more surprising. She and I weren't enemies, we were actually civil terms of a sort. My parents know her pretty well, but that didn't mean we were best buddies.

She quirked an eyebrow when she saw me, before shaking her head in an amused way, her long, raven black hair shaking ever so slightly. "Didn't expect to see you here so soon," she said. Then added, "Or at all."

"Didn't expect to see myself here until twenty minutes ago," I reply.

"So, regretting your decision on keeping him alive yet?" she asks casually.

_Yes_, I want to say, _I completely regret saving the worthless, infuriating bastard._ But I don't. I can't let her know that, or else she'll use that against me. She'll manipulate them into believing that he is what we claim him to be, and she'll get what she wants—a bullet in his head. I think I've said it many times; I'm Dauntless. We're stubborn and we don't back down without a fair fight. This fight was anything but fair; and it wasn't even a fight.

"No," I answer finally, but my silence didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh, really?" she questioned. "Doesn't exactly sound like it to me. Come on, you can always tell me the truth, Lynn."

"No offense or anything, but you kind of sound like a pedophile about to snatch a child." I say. "And that 'doesn't exactly sound' welcoming to me."

She stares at me. She can't determine whether I'm being hostile or sarcastic—maybe a combination. She furrows her eyebrows in confusion in a last attempt to figure it out. I don't know how she will. Even I'm not exactly sure how it came—or at least supposed to come out, it just did.

She sighs. "What can I do for you?"

"Finally recognizing your role as a tattoo artist or are you just skipping straight to it so you can stab me with those pointy things?" I ask, leaning over the desk and stare straight into her dark eyes.

This time she laughs, and a part of me relaxes. She shakes her head. I can't tell why. If it had a purpose behind it or if it was just natural. "What can I do for you?" she repeats.

And I tell her exactly what I want, and she delivers.

I was still a little sore in the places where I got the tattoos but it didn't hurt. I've felt things that were a million times worse than whatever the tattoo needle could ever do or hope to do to me. Other words, it was painless.

I remembered that I had to feed the prisoner dinner as well. Apparently I was now in charge of feeding the prisoner all three of his meals each day, until he's set free. He won't be.

I walked to the kitchen and just grabbed some food before taking off down to the prison cells.

When I reached the cells, he looked up, his eyes meeting mine, and he automatically smirked. Whatever he had planned I bet it wasn't going to be good. It never was.

"Back so soon, Lynn?" He asked tauntingly. "Ready to accept the fact that you and I are alike and let me go?"

I scowled at him. "Unlike you, I'm loyal to my faction—I'd never betray them. I'm not a traitor."

He shrugged, like he didn't actually care. But somewhere in his eyes and his slight change in demeanor told me that he did, in fact, care. It was probably a major setback in his 'plan.' I smiled smugly, good. Not that his plan would actually work.

I extended my hand, and gave him the plate. "Here," I say when he eyes it skeptically. "Eat up."

"Poisoned?"

I shook my head no. Of course he would think it was poisoned by someone, whether authorized or not. Everyone here wanted him dead. Actually, now that I think about it, it could be poisoned. I—more of he—had to trust that it wasn't poisoned. I honestly didn't care. "Why would you care? It's a peaceful way, and earlier when you had a gun pointed at your head, you didn't seem to care. That's not exactly a peaceful way. At least not in my book."

He took a bite of his food. I waited. Nope, he was still alive. So it wasn't poisoned. A part of me was disappointed.

He swallowed before answering. "Has anyone ever told you that you talk _way_ too much?"

I glare at him. I didn't have to time for this kind of crap. I actually had better things to do. "If that's all, I think I'll be leaving."

I turn and walk. "Funny," he says, and I find myself stopping. I turn back around.

"What?"

"You said that you think you'd be leaving," he clarifies. "It's funny for two reasons. First, because you either know you'll be leaving and leave or you won't leave. It's not an in between thing, it's something you have to be sure about." I scowl at this. I refused to stand here and let him ridicule me. "And second, because I didn't think it possible for someone like you and your little trio of friends to think."

I lunged at the bars. I brought my face inches away from his, only the bars are separating us now. It was one thing to insult me, but I didn't take it lightly when people insulted my friends or family.

"Don't you dare talk about my friends," I spit. "I thought I made it clear that I'd kill you without a second thought."

He was grinning wildly. "You have." His grin is so broad that I can see his teeth. All of them. "But you have failed to 'make it clear' on how, oh just how, you were going to actually win in a fight. I'm stronger than you, I've had more experience."

"Who said we'd be fighting. I just need a gun, and you're gone,"

"Oh, once again, taking the _cowardly_ way out. Tells me a lot about your character."

My face twists into a sneer. "You shouldn't make faces or else your face will get stuck." He grinned.

"Let me guess, exactly what advice your parents gave you when you were a kid. Or at least more of the advice you ignored when you were a kid." He seemed to get what I was implying and scowled at me.

That kind of confused me. I actually insulted him, and successfully, too. I shrugged it off.

"Now, if that's all, I'll be leaving."

I began to walk away, but was stopped again. "How are you settling with the whole "we're a lot alike news"? Finally accepted it?"

I ignored him, and kept walking. Apparently, that was all the answer he needed because as I walked I heard a booming laugh echo across the room.

"Lynn, truth or dare?" (A/N: No, this isn't a truth or dare fan fic. It's only like onetime thing; or something like that. It just goes along with the plot."

We were all packed into Zeke's apartment playing . . . wait, for it. Truth or dare. Yes, that's right. _This_ was his idea of celebration. Because this just screams party.

I wasn't really in the mood for getting up or actually doing anything for that matter. I huffed out a "Truth," and was rewarded by a round of boos from Uriah.

"Hmm," Marlene pondered this. "What are your fears?" I froze at this. I didn't want to tell them my fears. There were already four people who knew my fears, and the majority of them were traitors. I gulped, and took of my shirt. The rule was: if we refused to do a dare or answer a question we had to remove an article of clothing, and unfortunately for me I forgot to wear a jacket and extra clothing. Then again, I didn't exactly know we were going to be doing this. To be honest, this was the last thing I thought we were going to be doing.

I heard a couple of wolf whistles, and I looked down at the ground sheepishly. I never really liked attention. Which is precisely what I was getting right now. They were looking at me in surprise, and I couldn't figure out why.

"When did you get a tattoo?" Shauna asked. My eyes widened, I forgot that I had gotten one. "Why didn't you tell me?" I had never really planned to tell her, or anyone for that matter. It was something I wanted to keep a secret for my own reasons. Something that I could call mine, and mine only.

"I . . . uh . . .," I splutter, but no one is paying any attention, they're too busy staring at my tattoos in awe.

"Cool," Marlene comments from beside me. "What do they represent?"

"Well 'Be Brave' is what my parents always told Hec, Shauna, and I; I wanted it to . . . I don't know. I guess make it a part of me. And the feather represents wisdom, strength, awareness, love, and freedom. Things I either want to be or can't live without."

She nods, and I look back down at my feet. The game continues on without any problems, and it was actually kind of fun. More fun than usual.

When it was time to leave, I got up, said goodbye, and took the long way back to my room.

I thought about the prison cells, and how Eric was caged. And I froze. We were keeping him caged, so we were taking his freedom. Maybe that's why being locked up was a worse fate than death. Because we're Dauntless, we felt the need to be free, being locked up was like torture. Upon this revelation, I smirked.

As horrible as it sounded, I was kind of glad that he was locked up.

The bastard was getting what he so deserved.

I'm not cutting out the part where Marlene, Hec, and that little girl are about to plunge. That's in the next chapter (No, Marlene is not going to die. That'll be no fun.) Oh shit, I accidentally spilled a secret

Oh, well.


End file.
